


John's sexy encounter

by potatoeyhedgehogs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal, Blood kinks, Blowjobs, Flirting, Kissing, Lemon, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Spanking, johniarty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9245393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoeyhedgehogs/pseuds/potatoeyhedgehogs
Summary: John is on a case in a dark alleyway. Butt what happens when he encounters Jim Moriarty, whom he has lusted over for so long...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TURN BACK NOW SEXY TIMES AHEAD  
> lmao my first lemon

John tramped down the alleyway, huffing in anger. Sherlock and his stupid cases! What sort of detective work involved pretending to be a hobo? Sherlock was probably watching his every step and ensuring his safety, John knew, but he still felt chills run down his spine every time wind blew down the alleyway or footsteps sounded behind him. John picked at his dirty jumper. Pretending to be homeless was... dirtier than he imagined. Sighing, John slumped against a dumpster and slowly slid down to sit on the floor, which was littered with muddy newspapers and beer cans. Where was the suspect they were trying to catch? How long more of this humiliating pretense? He looked around. He was in a dark part of the alley. Above him was the clear night sky. No sign of Sherlock. Probably leaping around rooftops with his cheekbones and turned up collar, John thought. Just then, he heard heavy footsteps. John slowly got up onto his feet, careful not to make a sound. The strange tapping-strides got louder. John listened to the footsteps and realised whoever it was approaching was skipping. Skipping. Down an alley filled with drug addicts and possibly murderers. Whoever was coming had to be crazy.  
John looked around again, heart pounding faster. Dammit, he was in a dead end? He cast a pleading look towards the rooftops, praying that Sherlock was watching and would save him. John's breath hitched as he heard the skipping person stop. And emerge from a turn in the alley.  
The person was clad in a fashionable suit, standing only a few centimetres taller than John, but his dress shoes made him seem all the more taller. The man had stubble on his cheeks, almost unnoticeable from a distance. John couldn't make out who it was, so he stayed hidden behind the dumpster.  
The man took slow, halting strides over. John was certain it was not his suspect now. They were looking for a hobo, not-  
Jim Moriarty.  
It was Jim Moriarty, back from the dead. All the old fear and fascination with the man rushed back all at once into John and he almost yelped. Jim chuckled, his low, husky voice sending shivers down John's spine. Yes, John did find Jim attractive. But he was a criminal, and John was determined not to let his little crush become anything at all, anything more than just confused feelings.  
"Johnny-boy, not even going to say hello to me? Come out from there, no need to be shy," the flirtatious voice called out.  
John, helpless and shocked beyond words, stepped out from the shadow of the dumpster.  
"Oh dear, look at you! All filthy!" Jim stepped closer. "Want to come home with me and get a change of clothes?" John blinked. What?  
"I, uh, I don't want to." John flushed a deep red. "I'm perfectly fine."  
Jim rolled his eyes and pouted. "Whatever. Suit yourself. Johnny, I'm bored. I decided I should come find you so we can play!" Jim said enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. John frowned, taking a step backwards. This maniac... this attractive maniac... was going a bit too far. John felt rather disturbed, really. But something inside him was excited. He was almost interested in this little 'game' Jim was talking about. He suppressed his curiosity and frowned. "Jim, I don't want to play. Just move away and let me go."  
Jim took another stride forwards, so he was barely a hair's width apart from John. John could feel the taller man's warm breath on his face. "F-fuck off..." John mumbled nervously.  
"Oh no, we can't do that. This is much more fun." Jim whispered into John's ear. The closeness of the gesture and the tension between the two men was too much for John and his lips parted slightly, letting out a tiny mewl. It was only a soft, nearly insignificant sound but it held all John's desire, his feelings and need for Jim. Jim's lips curled into a smirk and he touched his cold fingers to John's cheek. "I like it when you make that sound." Jim growled before violently shoving his body against John's, pushing him against the brick wall. The shorter man let out a little 'uh' as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Jim purred and licked John's face, before trailing down to John's neck, where he began nipping and sucking at the delicate, pale skin. John let out another needy mewl, before tilting his head to the side to allow Jim access to his neck and shoulder. The bites became more aggressive and by now, John was certain he was bleeding. But Jim seemed to love the blood, lapping at the wounds like it was what he needed to survive. John moaned as he tangled his hands in the man's carefully gelled hair, pressing him closer to himself. Finally, Jim finished marking John and then cupped both sides of the blonde's face. John's eyes glaced shyly at his before avoiding his piercing gaze. Jim squeezed John's cheeks a little, causing John to wince in pain. "Look at me." John obeyed.  
Jim leant in and with his body, pressed John tightly against the wall and pushed his lips firmly on his. Jim grabbed one of John's hands and pinned it to the wall. His other hand began to roam down John's hips and waist. Jim especially loved it when John began tugging on Jim's hair, pulling at it and sending little jolts of pain through his scalp. He began sucking on John's lips and nipping, drawing blood. John, seeing that Jim was obviously turned on by this, began to do the same. As John opened his mouth to nibble on Jim's lip, Jim darted his tongue into John's mouth. Then began a fight for dominance, their tongues dancing and eventually, John's tongue was pressed against the floor of his own mouth. He could taste his own blood. Finally, Jim broke the kiss. His hair was now messy and his suit was slightly dirty from being pressed against John's 'hobo jumper'.  
Jim looked at his soiled suit and wrinkled his nose in disgust. John felt himself deflate a little, in guilt. But then Jim brightened up again.  
"It's alright! We can just take the filthy clothes off!"  
John's heart started beating faster. Was this actually...  
He looked up. Was Sherlock watching all this? He looked back at Jim, who had already stripped to his trousers. His pale torso was muscled and smooth. John shivered as he marvelled at Jim's body. Jim, impatient with John's refusal to take off his clothes, began to tug John's sweater off.  
John groaned as Jim began to work his undershirt off, unbuttoning it slowly. His pants were beginning to be too tight for him. Jim, whose right leg had slinked between John's thighs, obviously noticed.  
"Someone's getting excited, isn't he?" Jim purred, cupping John's arousal after tossing the filthy undershirt aside. John could only buck his hips in response.  
Jim reached down and rubbed John through his pants, eliciting a small groan that Jim stifled with a kiss. Oh god, he wanted the criminal mastermind so badly. John knew it was wrong, but damn, Moriarty was hot. John's hands snaked down and fumbled with Jim's pants, removing every layer of clothing he had left. Pulling away from their kiss, John stared at Jim's naked body. With abs and hip bones that would make Roman statues jealous, Jim was truly something to be worshipped.  
Forcing John down onto his knees, his crotch was at John's eye level. "Like what you see, Johnny boy?" Jim smirks as he takes it in his hand and presses it against John's face. "Kiss it. Kiss it like it's his." "Wait, no Sherlock and I arent a thing." "Good, because I want you to be mine. Mine and nobody else's. I'll skin anyone who says otherwise," Jim snarls. Somehow, this only serves to turn the doctor on even more and he does as he is told. He lavishes Jim's prick with a long languid kiss that moves down the head to the base. Jim makes a appreciative sound, and fists his hands into John's hair.  
"Go on," he says. John licks the slit of the man's cock with the tip of his tongue. He then encircles the tip with his lips and sucks, slowly inching his mouth along Jim's prick. Jim's hands suddenly tense and pull John's hair, forcing him to take in everything.  
John began to bob his head up and down along the criminal mastermind's impressive length. Jim moaned at the warmth and wetness of John's mouth. This man, devoid of a gag reflex, was doing the most wicked things with his tongue. Jim began to thrust his hips forward in time with John's bobs, his hands curled in the blonde's hair and his dark eyes closed. John could taste the man's salty precum in his mouth and he sucked hard, milking Jim. Soon, Jim was practically fucking John's face. "Fuck... John... I'm going to... I'm..." Jim groaned before unloading his seed into John's mouth. Immediately, the sweaty and panting man held John's mouth shut with both hands. "Swallow it," he crooned. "Swallow my cum like the good little whore you are." John felt himself stirring a bit at his words and he tried his best to gulp down the warm, thick liquid. Some of it leaked out from the side of his mouth and dripped down his chin. Jim bent down to wipe it off with one hand before shoving John to the ground, grinning through his lust-filled eyes. Military instincts kicking in, John landed in a crab-walk position, arms supporting him from behind and knees bent, muscles tensed. Jim growled at John. "Flirting's over. Hands and knees, now."  
John scowled. "Asshole." Jim's lips- oh, those blood smeared lips- curled into a smirk. "That was the idea," he purred before easing a slightly unwilling John into the position he so desired the soldier to be in. John's round and full butt cheeks faced Jim. They were slightly quivering. John turned his head back to peer at Jim, who spat into his hands and rubbed the mixture of spit and blood onto his dick, lubricating it. Jim licked his fingers afterwards, which brought some color into John's cheeks. John whimpered slightly as Jim teased his hole with one thin, long finger. It probed at the arsehole, before Jim plunged his finger into John. John grunted, the unfamiliar intrusion painful. Jim noticed and sadistically, added another two fingers. Now John was wincing in pain, his tight butthole stretched out significantly. Jim loved the sounds John was making and began to pump his fingers in and out of the shorter man. John whined with every movement, but he didn't move away in fear of what the psychopath might do to him if he did. Slowly, John began to enjoy the treatment and let out a soft mewl every time Jim's digits hit a spot inside of him. Tension was building up in his abdomen and John longed for the sweet release of orgasm. However, Jim grew tired of doing so and pulled his fingers out. John, frustrated from being denied his orgasm, grunted and glared at Jim. But he was soon pacified by the feeling of something, something huge probing at his sore butthole. Jim's cold fingers wrapped around John's hips and the doctor could feel warm breath against his back. "Should I put it in?" husked Jim. John tried to thrust his hips backwards but Jim held him still. "Jimmm," John pouted like a little kid. Jim smiled and rolled his eyes.  
"Jim, can you just-"  
"You want my cock inside of you, don't you? Little slut," Jim clucked in mock disapproval. Increasingly frustruated yet aroused by the name-calling, John whined yet again. "Jim, please-"  
Upon hearing those two words, Jim suddenly shoved his way into John, who screamed at the sudden pain in his behind. The ring of muscle clenched around Jim, who let out a breathy moan. John swore he felt blood trickling down his thighs. Tears fogged up John's vision and he struggled not to let them fall. This pain, it was more intense than the bullet wound he had received during the war; or the many injuries. Jim hadnt used enough "lube". John could feel Jim's hands carressing his butt cheeks, spreading them. "Shhh," murmured Jim. They stayed like that for a minute or so, Jim impatiently waiting for John to adjust to his massive dick. Then, Jim began to thrust in and out of John's butt, hands squeezing the firm cheeks. Jim's ball sac slapped against John's with every thrust, sending shivers down Jim's spine. John moaned as Jim's cock hit his prostate with every increasingly aggressive thrust. As he pounded in and out of John, the criminal mastermind began to spank John. With every slap against his butt, John mewled and thrust his hips backwards to meet Jim's. After a few minutes, the two men were sweaty and panting. John could feel the same tension building up in his stomach and threatening to burst any second. But Jim didn't seem to be any closer to orgasm. Jim's fast thrusting, in fact, was only tiring himself out. John had an idea. With his trembling and tired arms, he shoved himself backwards onto Jim so that Jim was now seated on the floor, his prick still inside John's butt. Startled by John's sudden dominance, Jim giggled a little. "Like being dominant, don't you?" Jim hissed into John's ear. John began to bounce up and down on Jim in response. Jim smiled wolfishly and began to croon the most delightfully dirty things into the blonde's ear. "Ride me hard, John." "You little whore, you like it up your butt, don't you?"  
These evolved into almost incoherent muterrings as the criminal began to come close to an orgasm, as did John. Jim wrapped his arm around John's sweat-slicked waist and began pumping John's length, which was red and swollen with need. John began to feel like his nerves were on fire and his vision was blurring. He was bouncing on Jim's dick almost violently now and Jim could feel the blonde tightening around him. Jim, dark hair dripping with sweat, purred into John's ear. "Come for me, John." Jim then sunk his teeth into John's bullet-wounded shoulder, blood filling his mouth. The taste of iron sent him over the edge, gripping John's hips as he died a hundred tiny little deaths of pleasure, cum spraying from his dick and filling John up. John moaned at the warmth suddenly flooding his asshole and the intense pain coming from everywhere; his shoulder, his burning buttcheeks, his butthole. Jim's name spilled from his lips in an uncontrollable, incoherent stream as Jim pumped John's leaking member one more time and John came all over himself, still riding Jim.  
The two men lay there in the filthy alley, panting for a few minutes. Jim's eyes roamed the shorter man's cum-covered body. Gorgeous. They got up after a while, John staggering a bit from the injuries he sustained. Jim didn't feel guilty, but he did feel obliged to care for the doctor. "Come home with me for a change of clothes?"  
"Definitely," croaked John before Jim helped him into the sleek, black private limo waiting for them down the alley.

* * *

Sherlock lay on the rooftop, drawing breaths in deep, staggering huffs. He pulled off his scarf and tried his best to wipe off his own liquids from his pants and coat. He got up unsteadily, before slipping his phone into his pocket. John was on his way to Moriarty's now, and Mrs Hudson was visiting a relative in Canada. Sherlock was going to be busy tonight...

* * *

From his office, Mycroft watched the CCTV feed showing his pathetic little brother staring at his phone's screen with wide eyes.  _All according to plan._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if things went a different way than expected?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This is the same fic as in Chapter 1, but with a different ending. It's pretty short compared to the previous chapter.

John tramped down the alleyway, huffing in anger. Sherlock and his stupid cases! What sort of detective work involved pretending to be a hobo? Sherlock was probably watching his every step and ensuring his safety, John knew, but he still felt chills run down his spine every time wind blew down the alleyway or footsteps sounded behind him.

John picked at his dirty jumper. Pretending to be homeless was... dirtier than he imagined. Sighing, John slumped against a dumpster and slowly slid down to sit on the floor, which was littered with muddy newspapers and beer cans. Where was the suspect they were trying to catch? How long more of this humiliating pretence? He looked around. He was in a dark part of the alley. Above him was the clear night sky. No sign of Sherlock. Probably leaping around rooftops with his cheekbones and turned up collar, John thought.

Just then, he heard heavy footsteps. John slowly got up onto his feet, careful not to make a sound. The strange tapping-strides got louder. John listened to the footsteps and realised whoever it was approaching was skipping. Skipping. Down an alley filled with drug addicts and possibly murderers. Whoever was coming had to be crazy. 

John looked around again, heart pounding faster. Dammit, he was in a dead end? He cast a pleading look towards the rooftops, praying that Sherlock was watching and would save him. John's breath hitched as he heard the skipping person stop. And emerge from a turn in the alley. 

The person was clad in a fashionable suit, standing only a few centimetres taller than John, but his dress shoes made him seem all the more taller. The man had stubble on his cheeks, almost unnoticeable from a distance. John couldn't make out who it was, so he stayed hidden behind the dumpster. 

The man took slow, halting strides over. John was certain it was not his suspect now. They were looking for a hobo, not-

Jim Moriarty. 

It was Jim Moriarty, back from the dead. All the old fear and fascination with the man rushed back all at once into John and he almost yelped. Jim chuckled, his low, husky voice sending shivers down John's spine. Yes, John did find Jim attractive. But he was a criminal, and John was determined not to let his little crush become anything at all, anything more than just confused feelings. 

"Johnny-boy, not even going to say hello to me? Come out from there, no need to be shy," the flirtatious voice called out. 

John, helpless and shocked beyond words, stepped out from the shadow of the dumpster. 

"Oh dear, look at you! All filthy!" Jim stepped closer. "Want to come home with me and get a change of clothes?"

John blinked. _What?_

"I, uh, I don't want to." John flushed a deep red. "I'm perfectly fine."

Jim rolled his eyes and pouted. "Whatever. Suit yourself. Johnny, I'm bored. I decided I should come find you so we can play!" Jim said enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear.

John frowned, taking a step backwards. This maniac... this attractive maniac... was going a bit too far. John felt rather disturbed, really. But something inside him was excited. He was almost interested in this little 'game' Jim was talking about. He suppressed his curiosity and frowned. "Jim, I don't want to play. Just move away and let me go." 

Jim took another stride forwards, so he was barely a hair's width apart from John. John could feel the taller man's warm breath on his face. 

"Oh no, we can't do that. This is much more fun." Jim whispered into John's ear. The closeness of the gesture and the tension between the two men was too much for John and his lips parted slightly, letting out a tiny mewl. It was only a soft, nearly insignificant sound but it held all John's desire, his feelings and need for Jim. Jim's lips curled into a smirk and he touched his cold fingers to John's cheek. "I like it when you make that sound." Jim growled before violently shoving his body against John's, pushing him against the brick wall.

The shorter man let out a little 'uh' as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Jim purred and licked John's face, before trailing down to John's neck, where he began nipping and sucking at the delicate, pale skin. John let out another needy mewl, before tilting his head to the side to allow Jim access to his neck and shoulder. The bites became more aggressive and by now, John was certain he was bleeding. But Jim seemed to love the blood, lapping at the wounds like it was what he needed to survive.

John moaned as he tangled his hands in the man's carefully gelled hair, pressing him closer to himself. Finally, Jim finished marking John and then cupped both sides of the blonde's face. John's eyes glanced shyly at his before avoiding his piercing gaze. Jim squeezed John's cheeks a little, causing John to wince in pain. "Look at me."

John obeyed. 

Jim leant in and with his body, pressed John tightly against the wall and pushed his lips firmly on his. Jim grabbed one of John's hands and pinned it to the wall. His other hand began to roam down John's hips and waist. Jim especially loved it when John began tugging on Jim's hair, pulling at it and sending little jolts of pain through his scalp. He began sucking on John's lips and nipping, drawing blood. John, seeing that Jim was obviously turned on by this, began to do the same.

As John opened his mouth to nibble on Jim's lip, Jim darted his tongue into John's mouth. Then began a fight for dominance, their tongues dancing and eventually, John's tongue was pressed against the floor of his own mouth. He could taste his own blood.

Finally, Jim broke the kiss. His hair was now messy and his suit was slightly dirty from being pressed against John's 'hobo jumper'. 

Jim looked at his soiled suit and wrinkled his nose in disgust. John felt himself deflate a little, in guilt. But then Jim brightened up again.   
"It's alright! We can just take the filthy clothes off!"

John's heart started beating faster. Was this actually...

He looked up. Was Sherlock watching all this? He looked back at Jim, who had already stripped to his trousers. His pale torso was muscled and smooth. John shivered as he marvelled at Jim's body. Jim, impatient with John's refusal to take off his clothes, began to tug John's sweater off. 

John groaned as Jim began to work his undershirt off, unbuttoning it slowly. His pants were beginning to be too tight for him. Jim, whose right leg had slinked between John's thighs, obviously noticed.   
"Someone's getting excited, isn't he?" Jim purred, cupping John's arousal after tossing the filthy undershirt aside.

John could only buck his hips in response.

Jim licked his lips. "Dinosaur…" With nimble fingers, he pulled the zipper of John's pants down.

John's heart palpitated. It was going to happen. He was actually going to fuck _Jim Moriarty_.

Jim slid John's underwear off and grabbed John's member. John mewled in pleasure. He wanted it…he wanted him…

Abruptly, Jim let go and stepped away. "Sorry, I just can't. I thought this will 'cure' me, but I just…sorry. I'm so sorry."

_It's not Moriarty._

John froze. What the hell? He couldn't believe he had actually been going to fuck a random stranger.

But wait…"Jim's" voice seemed familiar. As if he had heard him speak before. Strange.

Just then, "Jim" pulled his mask off, and John was staring at a familiar face. He cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have known.

_Anderson._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of the ending?

**Author's Note:**

> That was filthy but kudo if you liked it <3


End file.
